Black Ops More than Nova
by Naruuvi
Summary: So Alex Mason has finally killed Dragovich... What happens next? The CIA still have Mason, Weaver and Hudson as targets to be eliminated, but there is a mysterious girl following them around. Is Reznov truly dead? Did Woods really die? Nobody knows. Yet.


I moaned, hearing muffled words. "She's waking up!" I half-heard someone exclaim. I couldn't see, and I realized that I was in a dark room.

"How did you find us?" I heard a disguised, low voice question. I looked around, seeing nobody.

I began to probe with my mind, but with voice talking, I couldn't concentrate.

"I asked you a question, girl!"

"I heard you!" I yelled, and there was another shock.

"You _will _cooperate!" The deep voice yelled.

I gasped, laughing.

"What are you laughing about," The voice demanded.

It took me a while to recover. "You actually think that this is the worst thing that can happen to a person don't you?" I asked, still stifling hysterical giggles. I paused for a moment before I continued. "You can't be that stupid!"

I could practically feel Hudson's anger, but I couldn't stop laughing. "I don't believe it!" I gasped, my laughter almost gone now. "You have no idea what happened to me in that… that camp nine years ago…" I gasped, beginning to laugh again. "The hell that they put me through…

The voice disappeared for a moment, listening hard. I kept going, partially oblivious. "Their experiments…" I doubled over against my bonds, remembering the pain I'd experienced, the horrors that I'd seen.

"They _knew_ I was different, Hudson…" I heard a gasp over the intercom. "Unique…"

"How did she know your name?" I heard a voice in the background ask suspiciously. It had to be Weaver; I could hear his slight Russian accent just barely touch the recording, but that wasn't what gave him away.

"Freaky bitch," I heard Mason mutter, just barely audible.

"What did they do to you then?" I heard him speak sharply, spitting into the microphone. "How did you escape?"

"Oh…." I leaned back, sighing and closing my eyes. I felt my expression slowly transform into a painful grimace.

"Believe me… The stuff they did to me is seriously screwed up…"

"Tell me! Now!" The predominant emotion in his voice was intensity.

Laughing weakly still, I began to speak.

"Mason knows… He was there…"

I knew right then Mason had frozen in place, his expression tortured.

"Vorkuta," they all whispered at the same time.

I flipped my hair out of my face, and I felt the tears start. "I was only five years old then… But oh how-" I cut myself off for a moment, catching my breath. "How merciless they were…"

The light broke through my eyelids, and I felt my face twitch involuntarily. Slowly opening my eyes, I saw that I was in a room with one clear glass wall, laying on a gurney. Steiner, Kravchenko and Dragovich were all sitting on the other side, watching me intently.

"Aahh…" I sighed weakly, sitting up and rubbing my head. They had knocked me out again. It had once terrified me, to think of what they were doing to my body while I was unaware, but now that was nothing. The things that I'd seen happen to the miners had cured me of _that_ fear.

Steiner smiled expectantly, and stood, beginning to speak.

"How are you today, Marienne?" he asked, his fluent English just barely brushed by a German accent.

I rubbed my eyes, a small tear inched out, but Steiner and Kravchenko didn't see. "Fine," I said hoarsely.

"We have two very special people here today, Child," he said, motioning towards the two Russians behind him. "This is-"

"I know who they are," I interrupted, and the tone of my voice was suddenly cold. "Kravchenko and Dragovich."

Steiner looked annoyed that I had interrupted him, but he kept on speaking.

"Insolent little thing, isn't she?" Kravchenko muttered to Dragovich in Russian. Dragovich nodded, but he still looked at me thoughtfully.

"My family was killed by your hand," I retorted indignantly in Russian. "What more can you expect from me for that!"

They looked at me, a little shocked that I could understand English and Russian, especially since I was only five years old.

"How many more languages do you speak?" Dragovich asked intently.

"Oh, German-" I shot a venomous look at Steiner.- "French, Spanish, and fortunately for you, I also speak _idiot_," I spat, slamming my hand down on the gurney. It left a rather big dent.

Kravchenko looked about ready to jump through the glass and strangle me, but strangely, Dragovich laughed, walking closer to the glass wall. "I think I like this one, Steiner." he chuckled, shaking his head.

"What was it you wanted to show me?" he asked, throwing a sideways glance at the German. "I don't come this far for a child, however intelligent she may be. You said that this was powerful, powerful enough to even surpass Nova."

Steiner's smile left me chilled to my core. "_She_ is." He walked over to a small control panel, and pressed a yellow button. "Watch."

There was a small pneumatic hiss as the button was released, and a cloud of yellow gas descended on me. It flushed the oxygen from my lungs, and for a moment I couldn't think.

I opened my eyes, gritting my teeth. Acting on instinct, I moved the gas around me, creating a small space of air. I suddenly found I could breathe again, and I managed to concentrate hard enough to clear the room of the gas, stealing it's kinetic energy and leaving small piles of dust on the floor.

Still gasping, I collapsed into a sitting position on the gurney, shaking myself, and clearing my head before looking up again.

Dragovich was nodding, and smiling a shark's smile. Kravchenko was gaping, and it was almost comical to see the tough Russian's disbelieving expression. Steiner was looking at Kravchenko with a contemptuous expression, with one eyebrow raised.

"Her eyes were glowing," breathed Kravchenko, stepping back in surprise.

"How did she survive the Nova?" inquired Dragovich greedily, his hands clenched.

"She appears to have extremely accelerated healing, but we haven't yet figured out why," Steiner observed, retrieving a small clipboard from inside his lab coat. He flipped through it, showing something to the other two.

"Oh, that isn't all," chuckled Steiner, smiling as he walked again to the machines in the corner. He pressed another button, this time a red one.

I heard the familiar noise of a gun loading, and I tensed, still sitting.

The bullet barely came within a foot of me before I snatched it out of the air, throwing it on the ground. I looked at where it came from for a moment before realizing three of the walls were filled with firearms.

I looked up at the three cruel men through the window.

I only had time to say one thing. "Why?" I asked, throwing my hands up in the air. All three laughed, and the scientist pressed the button.

Within seconds, I was so absorbed dodging and stopping the bullets that I couldn't keep an eye on the window anymore. It was at least five minutes before I could work out anything to do, and I was gasping with the effort.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

Creating a small bubble of energy with my hands, I made it expand into the room, the shockwave stopping all the bullets in their tracks.

"Enough!" I cried, and let the shockwave keep going. The guns were jarred, and they all stopped immediately, their mechanisms overloaded. I knew the thick glass would stop the shockwave, but it didn't matter. It was too much to hope for that they would be affected too.

Steiner cried out in alarm, and pressed the button again, in order to keep the guns from overheating.

"Does she ever listen?" asked the general. He was still looking at me curiously.

"Nein," he replied, almost immediately. I had to smile. Even he knew that. "She never has. We can send simple commands, but she rarely carries them out. Like the other American," he snorted derisively. "It seems that they are all too strong for our technology, doesn't it?"

"Da," agreed the Russian. "With her, I understand, but the idiot that we had in for the other experiment… Mason, was it?" he shook his head. "I don't get how he stood up to the torture."

There was a sudden explosion that rocked the building, knocking them all down. I flew down off the gurney, slightly agitating the heavy powder on the floor.

They swore as they got up, and a guard burst into our room, trying to string a sentence together.

"The prisoners are starting a riot!" he shouted, turning a moment to shoot something behind him. "You need to get out of here, sirs!"

"We need someone to subdue the girl! If she escapes, she will join the fighting!" exclaimed Steiner, grabbing Dragovich's shoulder.

Dragovich nodded, and shouted something out the door. I couldn't hear what he said, but seven guards ran into the room, wearing riot suits.

"Men, get this girl quiet. She is needed, and we will take her with us as we leave, but she must not escape. Do you hear me? _Must not escape," _he ordered, emphasizing the last syllables.

He ran out of the room, along with Kravchenko and Steiner. I was left alone with the men. They opened the huge metal door immediately next to the glass. I thought quickly, wondering what I could do, and suddenly had an idea. Readying myself, I turned to face the men.

They came towards me, surrounding me and preventing my escape. As they were about to grab me, I took a deep breath. I was about to push my abilities to their known limits.

I pulled upward with my mind, and all of a sudden, the Nova 6 filled the room again. As I held my breath, I watched as the men stared at me for a moment, dumbstruck before they keeled over, their faces blackening from exposure to the toxic gas.

I was running to the door as I saw them die, and I quickly dried the tears that came to my eyes with my sleeve.

The next hallway I came to had a few vivisectioned men, former prisoners. I stopped for a moment, trying to keep calm after seeing their insides.

A few empty hallways later, I was outside, and I could breathe. There was a huge battle going on, and I could see that all the prisoners were rebelling against the guards. I could tell that I was standing out against the other prisoners, especially considering they were wearing their dark, coal-covered jumpsuits, and I was wearing a bloodstained hospital gown.

I inhaled deeply, and let out another huge shockwave, knocking out the guns of the guards so that I could run past without having to stop the bullets. It probably wouldn't have been too much of a problem dodging the bullets, because I was so short and hard to aim at between the rioting prisoners, but I hated the fact that they were shooting at the defenseless.

I remembered when I had been brought here, just over a year ago. A map of the passages was burned into my memory, and I ran along them with ease, disabling any guards that came my way. I was going to escape this horrible place today, and that thought gave me strength.

When I came close to one of the exits, I noticed a cloud of smoke rising in the distance. I guessed that they were trying to subdue the prisoners with tear gas, and I kept running, knowing that it wouldn't affect me nearly as much as it did the others.

When I came to it, I found I was right, and I held my breath as I darted across the open field. I dodged a few shocked, gas mask-wearing guards as they picked up the unconscious bodies of rioters, and carried them back to the mines. I saw one prisoner had stolen a gas mask, and was dragging another towards the same exit that I was going to.

I ran up beside him, and he at first hefted his gun towards me, but stopped, looking staring at me confusedly.

"Mind if I help?" I asked, seeing him struggle with the stairs. He was an older man, with a red rag tied around his head, and tape on his prison coat.

He laughed. "Of course," he said with a thick Russian accent. "What are you doing here, child?" he inquired, his voice muffled by the gas mask.

I looked down, baring my teeth at the ground. "My family was killed by that monster Dragovich," I growled. "I was wanted for experimentation, but instead of simply taking me, they stormed my home and killed my family."

He nodded. "I see. We both thirst for revenge against the evil man." He held out his hand. "I'm Viktor. Viktor Reznov."

"My name's Marienne," I replied, shaking his hand.

I took one of the hands of the unmoving body, and carried it up the stairs with ease. The Russian prisoner looked at me with surprise as he still struggled with his half of the load.

I noticed a small commotion a little bit away, and saw that there were personnel coming to see if there were any prisoners left over here.

"Hurry!" I hissed as the guards came closer. He was halfway in when the guards saw him, shouting an alarm.

I grabbed him and pulled him in, sealing the door not a second too soon. The guards were shouting, and beginning to try and blow a hole in the door, but they wouldn't be able to get in for a while. I had collapsed a pile of metal pylons against the only entrance, blocking them off completely.

"Good work!" I heard Viktor exclaim as he clapped a hand on my back. "I can see why they wanted _you_, Marienne!" he said, glancing at me for a moment.

"You aren't the only American here, girl," he said as he searched, looking for a means of escape. "That's a friend of mine down there, so would you do me a favor and make sure he's okay?"

I nodded, and bent down to check his vitals. He was unconscious from oxygen deprivation, and he had been nicked by a couple of bullets. They were bleeding a little more than normal, but otherwise, he would be fine. I looked up at Reznov, and nodded at him. "He'll be fine," I assured him, standing up to look around.

I noticed something under a sheet, and curiously, I pulled the heavy cloth off of the mysterious object, and found it to be a motorcycle. I grinned. I could use it to escape.

There was a sudden noise at the window, and I noticed that one of the guards was trying to get in.

Acting on instinct, I grabbed a broom handle, and stuck in into the motorcycle's 'Go' mechanism, setting it off towards the window. It broke through, taking the guard and his ladder with it.

"I should go," I muttered, hopping on a motorcycle.

I watched his incredulous face disappear through the window as I zoomed past the shocked Soviets that blocked my path.

I was shaking my head, chuckling.

"I can still remember his expression." I closed my eyes again, still partially absorbed in the memory.

"So you saw me?" interjected Mason suddenly. He had snatched the microphone from Hudson's hand without warning.

"Yes," I agreed. "I also helped save your life," I added quietly, looking up at the frosted glass they were sitting behind.

"And they did the same thing to you? The brainwashing?" he inquired.

"Oh they _tried_," I clarified, shaking my head. "They tried harder than you can imagine, but they never succeeded." I rolled my head around my shoulders, feeling my headache slightly intensify. "I still have nightmares about what they did."

"I don't get it," I heard Weaver murmur. "What does she want with us? Why was she trying so hard to find us?"

"Maybe this has something to do with Operation Charybdis," mused Hudson, leaning against the glass.

"Yes," I whispered, looking down at my bound hands. There was still just a suggestion of blood on my fingertips, crusted under my fingernails along with some dirt. "It does. I was sent to warn you-"

There was a sudden explosion, and I felt the walls shake. I heard sudden gunfire, and the window separating me from my three captors was broken.

"Damn!" I heard Weaver yell. "They found us!"

There was a sudden buzzing at the base of my skull. It intensified sharply, and I cried out in pain, bowing my head. I was almost completely unaware of the hands picking me up. There were the voices again, in my head.

"Kill," they commanded. "Kill destroy, and burn."

"No," I growled, tightening my hands. "You won't have me!"

I lashed out with my hands, but the voice was coming from everywhere. It was no use. I crouched, and I readied myself for an attack, but I couldn't see anything.

There was suddenly a stinging across my cheek, and my eyes flew open. "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" I screeched, startling myself with the intensity of my voice. A dark, blurred figure was standing over me, and I realized I had been propped up in a sitting position. My vision slowly cleared, and I realized that it was Weaver. His hand was flat, and I realized he had slapped me.

"_Proklinat!_" he swore, looking over his shoulder for a moment before turning back to me.

"You're damn lucky," he said, sounding extremely stressed out. "We barely made it out of Port Elizabeth alive, and they're still scouring the area looking for us!"

I looked around, and saw Mason sleeping on the other side of the train. He was thrashing and muttering numbers, grasping the seat. Hudson was nowhere to be seen.

"FUCK! REZNOV!" he shouted suddenly, waking himself up.

I bent over, holding my head. Mason looked up at Weaver, slightly embarrassed.

"Where's Jason?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Hudson?" asked Weaver, caught off guard for a moment. "He's in the next car, trying to figure out what's going on. We should be arriving in Johannesburg in a few hours."

"Why?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

He was looking out the window intently, searching for something.

"There's a man there we need to… ask a few questions," he replied, still looking through the dirty glass. Suddenly, he gasped sharply, backing away from the window.

"Damn," he muttered, wiping his forehead. "They found us again." He ran up to the door at the end of the car, and jumped to the next one. I saw the surprised face of Jason Hudson looking at him for a moment before the door slammed shut.

Mason and I stood, looking out the window. There were two helicopters following the train we were in, but they were searching. They didn't seem to know which train car we were in, but I noticed they were an American design.

"Charybdis," I sighed, and Mason looked at me, completely confused

"The giant whirlpool?" he asked, snorting. "I knew the Russians fucked you up too, but I never realized it was really _that_ bad."

I looked at him, rolling my eyes. "That's the name of the operation sent to eliminate you three." I thought for a moment. "And possibly capture me."

A look of comprehension dawned on his face while I was still talking.

"How do you know so much about us?" he questioned, turning away from the window.

I chuckled sadly for a moment. "I thought I told you; I was there with you a lot more than you know. You just didn't see me."

The buzzing of the mosquitoes was driving me insane. Because of it, coupled with the uncomfortable dampness of the jungle, I couldn't concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes.

I watched the open-topped boats pass, and I heard the radio blaring music. It didn't fit at all with the explosions and gunfire that were constantly shattering the peace that settled with the night. I knew there was a friend of my brother on one of the ships, and I had come in order to see if I could manage to meet him. I needed to tell him my brother was dead.

Covered in dirt, I suddenly slapped one of the small insects, crushing it before it had a chance to fly away. I saw that the small corpse had been filled with blood and grimaced. I would have an itchy bite in a few hours. The small vampire had begun to settle on the side of my neck, and decided that it was thirsty.

I looked up in surprise, and the boat had stopped. For a moment, I was worried that they had seen me, but I realized that one of the soldiers on board had been critically wounded. Nearly losing control of myself, and trying to stand up, I watched in horror as the man I was looking for fell.

"Medic!" I heard Woods shout. "We need a medic over here!"

Woods was bent over the boy, and I heard him protesting the young man's demise.

"No," he growled, but I could see the anguish in his expression. I saw tears in his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away. He didn't want to let the others see him cry. "Damn VCs. Killing kids."

I saw the others reach out, and begin to help him, but Woods pushed them away.

I knew they wouldn't see me in my hideout, a small, heavily forested hole, but I still had chills. The Viet Cong were ruthless. My hand tightened around one of the vines, nearly breaking it, but I somehow kept restrained. I would be able to get at them later.

"It seems like you were everywhere, huh?"

Mason was sitting again, his sad, guilty expression hidden by his hands.

"That kid was only seventeen. He should have lived, but thanks to those fucking Communists…" began Mason, but he stopped, looking down. I put a hand on his shoulder. "I was looking for him. I needed to tell him my brother was dead. His best friend…" I trailed off, looking out the window intently.

Both of the Hinds were gone. I hadn't seen them leave. I wondered if they'd given up the search for a moment, but then a moment later, I knew.

They didn't care which car we were in, and they had gone for more reinforcements. I felt myself pale, and for a moment I didn't know what to do. They were going to destroy the entire train just to make sure that everyone connected to Alex Mason was dead.

Then my instincts kicked in. I grabbed Alex's shoulder, surprising him.

"We have to go," I insisted. "Now. The helicopters are gone; they probably went for reinforcements, and soon they're going to light this train up like a candle!"

He looked just as shocked as I felt for a moment. Then his expression hardened.

He grabbed my arm roughly. "Come on!" he said as he dragged me towards the door, muttering profanities. I stopped him for a second, feeling that something bad was about to happen.

"Wait!" I hissed as he began to open the door. As he hesitated, I pulled him back, shutting the door. A searchlight passed over the window to the door. If we had gone outside, there was no doubt we would have been riddled with bullets.

As soon as the light passed, we both jumped through the door to the next car, nearly knocking the two people inside to the ground.

"They're gonna bomb the train," Mason explained, closing the door gingerly behind us.

Hudson nodded. "We know," Weaver said, his back turned. "We need a distraction; something that will let us escape unnoticed."

I looked around at them, thinking quickly. "I can do that," I nodded, looking out the window. I could see a Napalm carrier in the distance.

They looked at me strangely. "Why would you sacrifice yourself?" asked Weaver doubtfully. "Aren't you in league with them?"

I felt my eyes narrow. "I wish. They've been after me for years."

"Get out of here," I insisted, and before they could stop me, I grabbed a few things, ran to the door and jumped out onto the ladder, climbing up to the top of the train. I nearly fell off when we went over a bump in the tracks, but it would take a lot more than that to shake me off.

As soon as I had made sure I had my footing, I turned towards the helicopters, setting off the flare that I'd grabbed on my way out.

"Hey you bastards!" I yelled, waving the flare at the napalm carrier. "Don't look now, but I think I'm escaping, you sons of bitches!"

That seemed to draw the attention of the pilot, even though I couldn't tell if they had heard me or not. The searchlights were all moving towards me, and as soon as I was sure they were all on me, I jumped off the train.

The searchlights followed me to the ground, and I was sure they were listening this time.

"You fucking idiots!" I screamed. "You actually think that Mason's on that train, don't you!" I moved my hair out of my face, keeping the China Lake that I'd grabbed hidden behind my back. "I escaped from them as soon as we got to the train station! They were never going to Johannesburg! They were going to CAPE TOWN!"

The helicopters were preparing to shoot. That was my cue. Pulling out the China Lake, I aimed, and fired, downing the three aircraft in quick succession. I ran back to the train, dodging the pieces of falling aircraft.

"Violence is sometimes the answer," I muttered to myself, satisfied.

The train had nearly passed, and I saw someone jettisoning supplies. Then I saw three figures jumping out, rolling to avoid injury.

I ran over to them, in order to make sure they weren't seriously hurt. I saw Mason stumble as he began to get up. The other two were leaning on their knees, gasping.

I raised my eyebrows as they began to flee, running from the train.

"It's wired to blow!" shouted Hudson, still gasping. I nodded, and began to run alongside them, dropping my grenade launcher.

We ran for a few more seconds before the train exploded, knocking us forward about five feet.

For a few seconds, we all just sat there for a few seconds, catching our breath. Then Weaver got up, offering me his hand.

"Nice shooting," he said breathlessly, sitting down on the crate for a moment.

"Thanks," I smiled, but I still needed to stop and rest for a moment.

"Maybe you're worth keeping around after all," Hudson said with grim humor.

Nodding, I responded. "I get that a lot."

I looked out in the distance. I could see the lights of Johannesburg, but just barely. I wondered how long it would take to walk there.

"Well gentlemen," Hudson began, grabbing a backpack out of the crate. "We've got a hell of a long way ahead of us."

The rest of us took another military-issue backpack. I nodded, and began after them.

"You guys are all crazy," Alex muttered, still grabbing a backpack.

"That's why we're all still alive," I replied, rolling my shoulders back and forth.


End file.
